Ella Hansworth
by DovahkiinSarah
Summary: Ella turns 18 and her life has truly begun. Her hometown sweetheart is drawn to the Dragonborn blonde beauty and she is drawn one of the most powerful figures in all of Skyrim. Will they find their way to each other again or forever be starstruck?


**This is a re-write of my first story :3 Hope you like it!**

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_The city of Solitude sat below a dark, hovering cloud. The sound of screaming and yelling filled the air. A constant burning scent filled my nostrils. I fought through the ambush of soldiers in red armor. But the faces of the soldiers were familiar to me, very familiar. One had golden blonde hair and dark brown eyes and tan skin. He had pointed features. He was a Breton, as was I. The other soldier looked very similiar to me, with dark black hair and golden shimmering eyes. These two soldiers kept bombarding me, just these two, over and over again. They gave me no trouble as I ambushed through them, landing killing blow on each one. I was on a roll, making my way to the castle. Suddenly the blade of the blonde haired one sliced through my stomach leaving a searing pain. I doubled over clutching my abdomen. A felt a foot connect with my side and roll me onto my back. I looked up at the two soldiers whose eyes were glistening with bloodthirst. I knew these men. They were my brothers. Mikal, the blonde one, and Ruran, the one who looked so similar to me. I looked up at them begging, begging. Ruran planted his foot firmly on my stomach and lifted his sword high above his head pointing downward at my heart. "Brother.." I mumbled out. He ignored me. His sword whistled through the air as he thrust it down-_

I woke up like a shot, sweating, panting, crying. My long hair was matted to my skin where ever it was exposed. My white nightgown clung to me and was see-through it was so drenched in sweat. I sighed and composed myself. This was the third night in a row I had this dream. Not dream, nightmare. I refused to believe it meant something. Swinging my legs around the edge of my bed, I stood up and fought the head rush. Disgusted, I peeled off my nightgown and looked at myself in the mirror. The first thing anyone in Skyrim would notice about me is my height. I was a Breton which diminished my height. The Nords of Skyrim always stood at least a foot above me. I was also pretty pale which contrasted with my ink black hair that reached the small of my back. I loved my hair, at it was really the only thing I cared for. At night I got the rare chance to bathe in the river where I cleansed my hair with suckle from the mountain flowers and potions Wesley brewed up. But the most extraordinary part of me had to be my eyes. They were shimmery golden-yellow. I owe my Altmer ancestors for the beauty of my eyes.

Ruran had eyes similar to mine too. In fact we just looked very alike. He had hair that was black as night, too. He was only a year older than me and the brother I was closest too. As my brother it was his job to tease me and embarass me. I loved him though. As I loved my other brothers, Wesley and Mikal. They looked more like each other and not like me and Ruran. They had golden-blonde hair and dark brown eyes. Mikal was the oldest of all of us, three years older than me. He was very handsome, maybe the most handsome in our village. Mikal was very serious and loved the Empire. I don't think he had ever done anything wrong in his life. Wesley was the middle brother. He favored alchemy and usually just kept to himself. Him and Mikal were so quiet while me and Ruran were loud and rowdy. While Mikal would read by the window and Ruran would make an invisibility potion me and Ruran would wrestle in the living room. The only advantage Ruran had on me was that he could pull my hair and make me give in. If I ever screamed, mother would snap at us to stop.

My mother loved us, no doubt. But she had a problem with her four almost adult children still living at home. Especially Mikal. He was 21 years old now. She wanted him to go out and start his own family. Mikal did have a girlfriend, of course, she was the daughter of the only other Breton family in our village. Her name was Alyssa, and, in my opinion, she seemed so dull compared to Mikal. She was pretty, but plain-looking. Red hair, foggy brown eyes. I couldn't picture Mikal settling down with Alyssa. Although whenever he was out of the house he was at Alyssa's. Wesley was too shy to find a woman. I could laugh at the thought of Ruran having a wife. He seemed too goofy. Me? I still had time. My mother still valued my input for our little business.

We provided the village with food. In the back of our house we had a large vegetable garden which my father usually tended too. My mother would harvest and Ruran would work the stand. I would go hunting. I learned how to be silent, and move like a spirit. Every step was planned, making sure no leaves would crack below me. And once my prey was in sight I would pick up my bow and hold it parallell to the ground. An arrow was carefully placed, feathers mingling with the string. I'd draw my breath in as I pulled the arrow back, string moaning and bow creaking as it was disformed. A moment was given for all the potential energy to built up in the arrow, then a release. The arrow whistled through the air and landed firmly in the deer's side. I let my breath go. The animal would fall to the side and quiver a small bit. I would finish off the animal with a firm chop to the back of its neck. I loved hunting, it was an art. And each kill was a release. I would drag the carcass home and Mikal would skin it, gut it, and harvest all the usable parts. I knew how to do all that but I left it to Mikal so he would have a small job in our business.

I got paid for my small hunting job. My parents gave all of us a real salary. After a couple of years of hunting for my parents, selling hide, and one rebellious trip into the nearby Valthiem Towers, I have at least 900 septims saved up. As strange as it seems all I wanted to spend it on was my own horse. I need to accumulate about 100 more septims, though. It would help me travel and hunt better. I could go to Whiterun, which is just west of us, or Windhelm which is to the northeast after a small trip through the mountains. But both cities were familiar to me. I heard about the sleazly slowness of Riften, and something about it attracted me. My friend, Lynch, had been to Riften and loved it. I realized he would be the one to escort me. A small Breton who could work a bow and arrow and cast a few spells could never handle herself through the Rift.

Lynch was my first friend, besides my brothers. He was Wesley's age, and a Nord. Lynch Niem's family ran the mill at the bottom of the hill. Years at the mill had sculpted Lynch into a tall and strong man. Often I would catch him sneaking into the nearby forest with his greatsword. I really didn't appreciate him slaughtering the animals to the point where you couldnt harvest the meat or hide.

Although his killing skills were usefull when we snuck to the Towers for a raid. Normally I would stalk along the side of the road hiding and ducking in between bushes, picking off the cut-throats patroling along the long walkway between the two towers. Once many were cleared out, Lynch would fly in for the ambush. I would watch silently from the road as the sound of fighting echoed in the valley. After a moment of silence I would hear a quick three-note whistle coming from the towers. That was my signal to come and clear it out. Together we'd use lockpicks to open all the chest and collect any gold or any items. We would sit on top of the tower further from the road and divy out our collectings. Often the items were swept from our small village so we didn't keep those. The gold would be portioned out between the two of us.

Afterwards we'd lay atop the tower talking and laughing about everything and nothing. By the time the sun went down and blue and green lights danced and tangled with the stars there was a chill in the valley. The moment I'd shiver from the cold Lynch would reach out and pull me closer. Without argument I would curl up to him. Such a large body produced so much heat. I was small and a Breton, used to the warm summer nights in High Rock. Lynch could most likely stand nude at the peak of the Throat of the World. I don't even think he felt cold. A top the towers is where we really started to feel more than friendship. It was where we first kissed, held hands, and a whole lot of other firsts. Half the time we would fall asleep up there under the stars, intertwined to keep me from shivering.

With the cold in mind I pulled on a fur shawl over my usual blue robes. My room was in the cellar of the house. It was the only realy room in the house with a wall and door. Since I was the only daughter, my mother figured I could have it. Her bed was situated on the loft above our little living area. Ruran and Wesley's beds were outside of my room and Mikal's was tucked below the ladder that rose up to the loft. I climbed the ladder that led to our main room where we ate, talked, relaxed, and played. Mother and Father sat by the fire holding hands. Wesley was bent over his alchemy lab (which he saved up for a few years until he could finally have it bought, brought by horse and carriage, and lugged into our kitchen area) and Mikal sat reading a book on Uriel Spetim. Ruran was most likely working the stand. I grabbed a honey nut treat off of the bar and headed out the door with out failing to kiss both my mother and father on their cheeks.

It was a unusual sunny day in Melastead (causing me to remove my shawl) and everyone was out about, going through their usual routines. Absolutely boring, I thought. The village was built on the steep bank of the White River along the road from Whiterun to Windhelm. There were three tiers to my town. The first was my home, the Inn, and the general goods store located on the opposite side of the road. By the river was the wood mill, Lynch's home, and the small fisher's home. In between was the home in which Alyssa lived where her mother sold alchemy ingredients and another home where a strange Orc couple resided. I made my way across the road and down the steep steps that led between Alyssa's home and the Orcs' homes and down to the Mill where Lynch was hard at work.

"Hello." I spoke casually. Lynch looked up from the large log he just lifted over his shoulder and placed in the saw. A smile grew across his face. He was so handsome. His hair was a dark auburn that glimmered copper when the sun caught it. His eyes were a spooky grey that was almost white. They were very interesting looking though.

"Aye." Lynch nodded. I climbed up the slope where Lynch stood. The mill was built by his grandparents a few decades ago. The wood still proved strong as it could hold nine logs without trouble. My gaze lead away from the old wood to Lynch's face. I had to ask him to escort me to Riften. I had no doubt that he would say yes, but it was still pretty nerve-racking. I was so close to Lynch. "Hey I want to show you something tonight." I looked back up at him. All thoughts of Riften flew from my mind.

"Yeah, sure." I replied. I didn't know what to expect, but I trusted Lynch.

He smiled a geniune smile. "You'll think its really cool," Lynch nodded, he was really excited. His expression showed that he remembered something, "Oh! Don't wear a dress,"- Naked? -" Wear something easy to move in." Oh okay. I nodded and wondered what could make Lynch so excited.

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**Okay if you read my other version, you'll see in the next chapter how I'm taking a very different perspective. I think it will work better. This chapter was most likely to show the setting and what not. I'm working on a map of Melastead. Okay thank you for reading! (: Next Chapter will be out VERY soon (::: **


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